


Wind Beneath my Wings

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd hates parties with a passion, but this one he has a reason for wanting to go to...if he can only get the right person to go with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set after episode 12 of Season 5, but before episode 1 of season 6. Song fic, written around Bette Midler's 'Wind Beneath My Wings'. Anything in italics are like *this*. The lyrics are like \this/.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

"Grace!"

Grace had been waiting for him to shout for a while now, but she still pretended that she hadn't heard him.

"Grace!" The voice was louder and a note of impatience had crept in, but still she ignored him. She knew what he was going to ask probably before he did.

"The answer is no, Boyd," Grace said, not looking up from her paperwork. She had heard his footsteps approaching her office, and she knew her avoidance tactics would eventually make him give up.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask yet!" Boyd replied indignantly.

The profiler glanced at him over the top of her glasses. "It's the annual policeman's ball this Friday night and you *have* to go, but you've got no one to take and you don't want to go alone, so you were going to try and 'persuade' me to go with you. The answer is no." Grace returned her gaze to her work, feeling a small amount of satisfaction at the expression on Boyd's face.

But the policeman was now smiling. "Do they teach you that or is it a natural ability?"

"What?"

"Talking without pausing for breath. It's quite amazing."

"The answer is still no, Boyd."

Boyd looked Grace's bowed head and smiled some more. "Okay," he said simply, and walked out of her office. Grace's head shot up; that was too easy.

"Spence!" Boyd yelled, and Grace smiled. *'If at first you don't succeed,'* she thought, *'get Spence to help you'.*

"Yeah, boss?"

"Shut the door."

Spencer did as he was told and looked at Boyd. It had taken the younger man a while to recover from being shot, but he had been back at work for a few weeks now and was doing well. "What's up?"

Boyd looked at Spencer in slight amazement. "'What's up?' *'What's up?'* Can't you talk properly?"

Spencer grinned. "Is there something you wished to discuss with me, sir?"

"Oh God, that's even worse!" Boyd exclaimed, cringing. "Sit down, Spence. Okay, you know it's the ball on Friday…."

"And you want Grace to go with you then you're not on your own, but she doesn't want to go," the younger man finished.

Boyd stared. "Am I that obvious?"

Spencer pretended to think about it. "Yeah."

"Great," the older man replied, drawing the word out.

"What's the big deal, boss? Just say you can't go."

Boyd sighed. "It's not as simple as that, Spence. The ball was just - an excuse, for something else."

Spencer leant forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands together. "Uhoh, this sounds serious."

"It is."

"Okay, let's hear it then."

Out of habit, Boyd glanced to his right towards Grace's office, and the worried look wasn't missed by Spencer, who frowned. "Things have been difficult recently, for all of us," Boyd said quietly, still looking at Grace's bowed head, "what with Mel, and Frankie leaving, and Felix almost being seriously injured. And almost losing you. And Stella…well, we won't go there." The older policeman turned and transferred his gaze to the ceiling, leaning back in his chair. "It makes you appreciate how important certain people are in your life."

"You've been spending way too much time around Grace, Boyd," Spencer said, shaking his head. "You're starting to talk in riddles like she does."

Boyd smiled slightly and looked at Spence. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The younger man looked at his boss and realised the situation was, in fact, very serious. "Look, if you can't tell her with words what she means to you, find another way to do it. Flowers, chocolates, a meal out, a song, something that expresses what you can't."

"Wow, Spence, that's really deep," Boyd replied quietly, and in a gentle tone as well.

"Well I'm a deep kinda guy," the younger man said with a smile.

Boyd sighed. "I need help."

"We've known that for a long time, buddy."

"I mean with this."

Spencer held his hands up. "Don't look at me. I've given you advice, that's as involved as I'm willing to get with 'this'."

"Oh, come on, Spence," Boyd pleaded.

"Nope, you're on your own. And you know why?"

"No, but you're about to tell me," Boyd replied petulantly.

"As much as I love Grace, she's like a bloodhound," Spencer explained. "She can smell interference a mile away, and she'll know if you've had help with whatever you decide to do. Sorry, but I like living."

"Such loyalty, Spence," Boyd said sarcastically, shaking his head.

"Well at least you didn't run out the 'I saved your life, you owe me' line."

"I'm saving it for an emergency."

"What do you call this?"

"Not an emergency. Yet."

Spencer stood up. "You've got to do this on your own, boss. It's the only way Grace will know you mean what you say."

"I won't be saying anything, I'm finding another way to do it, remember? And how did you know…?"

The younger man rolled his eyes and glared at Boyd. "That you have a thing for Grace? You're obvious, remember? But only to me. Grace is oblivious. I think."

"You think," the older man said slowly.

"Yeah, but not very often."

Boyd smiled. "A bloodhound, eh? What a wonderful image. You know I could use that as blackmail."

"You could, but then I'd have to arrest you." Spencer smiled back and left Boyd's office.

Grace was surprised to see Spencer head back to his desk. She had been sure he would come to see her with the pretence of wanting to talk about the case, when really he was doing Boyd's bidding. But the young man simply went back to work, and Grace found herself becoming suspicious.

"Where do you want this paperwork?" Grace heard Stella ask Spencer timidly. Boyd had been very close to firing Stella, but he had grudgingly agreed to give her a second chance, though Spencer wasn't too happy about it. And Felix had left the team, so they found themselves without a forensic scientist, for the time being at least.

"Top drawer of that filing cabinet, under 'C'," Spencer replied. After a long talk with Grace, he had decided to forgive Stella. After all, it wasn't really her fault he got shot, and she was a good police officer. She was just young and inexperienced. Grace had laughed when Spencer had said that, and promptly shooed him out of her office, telling him he sounded too much like Boyd.

For her part, Stella had worked four times as hard as everyone else. She was often first in the office in the morning and last out at night, and she hardly spoke to anyone. She wanted to remain on the team, but more than that she wanted their trust again.

"Stella!" Boyd yelled.

The young woman's eyes widened with worry and she stood up. "Wait a minute," Spencer said quietly. "Boyd's up to something. If he asks you to help him with a project, say no."

"But -"

"I know, he's your superior officer, but trust me, you don't want to get involved in this. He's got to do it on his own."

"Is it to do with him and Grace?"

Spencer looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"Just a guess. They seem close, he wants her to go to the ball with him and she doesn't want to go, but really, neither does he."

"Amazingly, I understood that," Spencer said, smiling.

"Stella!"

"You'd better go," Spencer told her.

"Yes, sir?" Stella said as she entered Boyd's office.

"Shut the door. Please, sit down. How - how are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you, sir."

"Not working too hard?"

"Only as hard as I need to, sir," Stella replied.

Boyd smiled slightly. "Good answer, Stella. Okay, I need your help with something."

"Sorry, sir, but I can't."

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask!"

"Something to do with Grace, and DI Jordan told me to say no, that you had to do this on your own," Stella said, holding Boyd's gaze, which would have terrified anyone else.

But then the older policeman smiled. "I thought he might have done, but it was worth a try. Thanks, Stella," he said, dismissing her.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace was confused. She had seen both Spencer and Stella go into Boyd's office and come back out again, but neither of them had bothered her. Either it was all part of Boyd's plan to get her to go to the ball or they had told him they didn't want anything to do with his plan. Either way, Grace was intrigued. Eventually, she heard Boyd's voice echoing out into the bullpen from his office.

"Okay, kids, go home. And, Stella, I don't want to see you until ten o'clock tomorrow," Boyd told the DC. "This doesn't mean you're completely forgiven; I want you to leave Spence *some* paperwork."

Spencer glared at him. "Thanks, boss."

"Any time, Spence. Any time," Boyd replied, smiling.

"Night, Grace," Spencer and Stella called as they left.

"Night, Spence. Night, Stella." *'Now he's going to come in,'* Grace thought, but Boyd stayed in his office. After half an hour, the profiler decided to head home as well. She turned her lights off and closed her office door. "Night, Boyd."

"Night, Grace," he called back, glancing up briefly and smiling.

Grace paused outside his office, apparently deciding what to do. Finally she sighed and went in, sitting down on the couch, holding her bag in front of her. "What are you up to?"

"I thought you were going home?" Boyd said, looking at her.

"I am, after you answer my question."

"I am working, Grace. Finishing paperwork." Boyd gestured at the papers strewn across his desk.

"I didn't mean that, I meant whatever you're planning to get me to go to the ball with you."

Boyd raised his eyebrows and took his glasses off. "Was that supposed to make sense?"

"I am not going to the ball with you. I don't want to go, I hate those kinds of functions."

"I know. I wasn't going to ask again."

"Oh. Are you going?"

"Probably," Boyd said without enthusiasm. "I have to."

"There isn't anyone else you can take, is there?" Grace asked.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you asked me."

Boyd actually looked hurt. "You think you're my last choice? How do you know you're not my first and only choice, Grace? Don't make assumptions without having all the facts."

"That's just it, Boyd, I *don't* have all the facts. Why are you so insistent that I go with you?"

"I'm not," the policeman replied with a laugh. "You seem to have detected this non-existent vibe, Grace. I asked you to go to the ball with me because I enjoy your company and it would have made going more bearable. But you said no and I respect that decision."

"I'm not used to you being so…."

"Nice? Patient? Understanding?" Boyd smiled. "Call it the new me."

"I think I preferred the old one," Grace muttered. "Right, now I really am going home. Night, Boyd."

"Night, Grace," the policeman said, still smiling. As soon as the profiler left, Boyd sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Getting Grace to agree to go with him was turning out to be harder than he thought.

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

"Morning all," Grace greeted everyone as she arrived for work the next morning.

"Morning, Grace," Spencer said, smiling.

"Morning. Coffee?" Stella asked.

"Oh, yes please."

"Morning, Grace," Boyd called from his office.

"Morning, Boyd," Grace replied, waving at him as she went to get her coffee from Stella. "Oh, that is wonderful, thank you." Stella smiled at the praise. "So, Spence, who are you taking to the ball?"

"Who says I'm going?" Spencer replied.

Grace smiled at him. "You're a senior police officer now, you have to."

"Damn, I was hoping no one would notice that," he replied in mock defeat. "Well, I suppose in that case I'd better take Stella. I would ask you, Grace, but I know you don't want to go."

"Damn right I don't, and I'm not," she said firmly.

"Wait, why am I going?" Stella asked.

"Because I'm telling you to," Boyd said, making them all jump. "I think if you go to the ball with Spence, that is the ultimate punishment for the danger you put this team in."

"Thanks, boss," Spencer replied dryly.

"That means that on Monday morning, everything goes back to how it should be, okay?" Boyd asked, looking round.

Everyone nodded and Stella said, "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"I wouldn't thank me just yet. You have to spend the entire time of the policeman's ball with DI Jordan." Boyd looked at her and smiled. "I don't envy you at all."

"I am still here, you know," Spencer said indignantly.

"I know, Spence, you'd never let me forget." Before the younger man could reply, Boyd turned and went back into his office.

"Is he feeling alright?" Spencer asked Grace.

"Apparently this is a new Boyd, all caring and sharing," the profiler replied with a slight smile.

The DI looked at her. "I give it a week, tops."

"You're more generous than I am, Spence."

"Am I allowed to join in?" Stella asked.

Grace looked at her and smiled. "From Monday, yes. But for now, I think you're still on parole."

"Okay. In that case, I had better get these files sorted."

"Paperwork. Joy," Spencer muttered, but Grace wasn't listening. Instead, she put her coffee cup down and walked to Boyd's office.

"Yeah," he answered when she knocked on the door.

"Hi," Grace said, going in and shutting the door.

"Hi," Boyd replied, smiling at her.

"That was a nice thing you did just then."

The policeman pulled a face. "Nice, Grace? Can't you think of a better word?"

"Oh, I forgot, you don't like the word 'nice', do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Okay, it was very generous of you. Is that better? Very compassionate."

"Grace, stop, please," Boyd said in a pained voice.

"Okay," she replied, smiling and holding her hands up.

"Was there anything else? Only I have all this," he gestured to a stack of papers, "to get through."

"No, nothing else." Grace stood and paused with her hand on the door handle. "Alright, Boyd, I'll go to the ball with you. But only for a couple of hours," she told him.

"Okay," Boyd replied, smiling. "Thank you."

"I don't want thanks; I want a bottle of red wine. And you owe me, Boyd," Grace called back as she left.

"Uh huh," the policeman said, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

Grace checked herself again in the mirror. She had thought about a dress, but then decided that a long skirt would be better, and had chosen to wear a brown floaty, as Boyd called her clothes, one, with a beige sequined top. It was cool outside, but not cold enough for a coat, so Grace picked up a thick, crocheted, grey woollen shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Looking at her reflection one last time, Grace wondered why she was bothering making such an effort. Boyd would probably be wearing a suit like he normally did; the only difference would be the addition of a tie. Besides, she wasn't planning on staying longer than a couple of hours, and she didn't think Boyd was either.

Just then, her mobile rang, and she smiled when she saw who was calling. "Were your ears burning, Boyd?"

"No. Why? Were you talking about me?" he asked.

"Close. Thinking about you."

"Really?" he replied, and she could hear the grin in his tone of voice.

"Not like that, behave yourself, Superintendent."

"Yes, Dr. Foley."

"What do you want, Boyd? You're supposed to be picking me up in ten minutes."

"I'm afraid something's come up, Grace," Boyd said gravely. "I don't think we'll make it to the ball."

"What a shame," she replied insincerely. "Is it that serious?"

"I think it might be. Can you come to the office?"

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Don't waste time getting changed, Grace, this is urgent."

"Alright, Boyd, I get the message. See you in a bit."

"Bye, Grace."

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

When Grace entered the Metropolitan Police building twenty minutes later, she was struck by how quiet it was as everyone was at the ball, whether they wanted to be or not.

"Boyd must be ecstatic that something's come up," she murmured to herself as she wandered through the corridors towards the Cold Case offices. But when she got to the main doors, she stopped dead

The bullpen looked different than it normally did, and Grace wondered if she'd somehow ended up in a forgotten part of the Metropolitan Police building, not in the place she normally worked.

As Grace looked through the glass of the doors, she saw that the blinds of hers and Boyd's offices had been closed, and that the bullpen was completely tidy. In place of files and papers were candles, an abundance of them, in fact, and Grace had to admit that her curiosity was piqued.

She pushed the door open and said, "Hello?" very quietly, but there was no answer. "Boyd?" she called a little louder.

"Hi, Grace," he replied, his voice drifting out from his office. "Grab a glass of wine and I'll be out in a minute."

"O-kay," Grace said in a confused tone. She looked around and saw a bottle of red wine and two glasses on Spencer's desk. She poured herself and Boyd one, and sipped the liquid, looking more carefully around the office. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to set the atmosphere, but why? And why here? It suddenly occurred to Grace that going to the ball could just have been an excuse for something else. Whatever was going on, she was definitely intrigued, and she decided to put her shawl and her bag in her office out of the way. She didn't think she'd be leaving anytime soon, unless Boyd ruined the mood and started yelling, which was entirely possible.

Grace came out of her office and was glad she had put her glass of wine down beforehand, otherwise she would have dropped it. Boyd was leaning against the doorframe of his office door, watching her, and he was dressed in a tuxedo that fitted him like a second skin. While he wasn't a young man any more, Boyd was still fairly trim for his age, and Grace realised she was staring.

"You look very nice, Grace," Boyd said, standing up and walking towards her.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling. "Ah. Don't move." Grace retrieved her glass of wine from the desk, folded one arm across her waist, and looked at Boyd critically. She walked around him slowly, moving her head from one side to the other.

"Something wrong?" Boyd asked, deliberately posing for her.

"It's a little…formal for work, isn't it?"

Boyd nodded in agreement. "But I'm not working."

"Oh? I thought you said something had come up."

"That part was true." Boyd smiled. "I'm afraid I lied, Grace."

"I see." The profiler stared at him, apparently lost in thought. "Yes, that's what wrong." She put her glass down, walked up to him, and carefully untied his bowtie. Boyd stood perfectly still, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips. Grace put the tie on the desk and then unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. "There, much better. More relaxed."

Boyd's smile grew. "You think so?"

"Drink?" she asked, handing him a glass.

"Thanks. Why don't we sit down?" He gestured behind Grace, and she turned to see the couch that normally resided in Boyd's office pushed up against the wall near the board.

Once they were comfortable, Grace looked at Boyd and said, "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

He smiled. "Eventually."

Grace nodded in understanding. "Do you do all this yourself?"

"I had help," he replied, shaking his head.

"I see."

"The idea is mine, but I needed help getting it all ready in time," he explained. "That's why I sent you home early."

"I did wonder."

"You didn't think it was just me being generous?"

Grace laughed and touched his forearm briefly. "Not really, Boyd."

"I should be insulted by that."

"You should be, but you won't be."

He smiled at her. "Spence and Stella helped to arrange everything, and Spence has promised we won't get disturbed."

"How will he manage that?"

"I don't know and I didn't ask."

"This 'thing' must be very important for you to go to all this trouble," Grace said, turning to face Boyd properly, and propping herself up on one elbow against the back of the couch.

"It is, Grace, it is. But I don't want to talk about that just yet," he replied quietly, looking at her.

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything. How was your afternoon off?"

"Quite nice, actually. I put some relaxing music on and had a nice long bath."

"Oh."

"You sound disappointed."

"Sorry, just wish I'd have known. I could've come and scrubbed your back for you," he said with a mischievous smile, which grew into a smirk when Grace choked on her drink.

"Boyd!" she said, hitting his shoulder.

"What else did you do?" the policeman asked as if nothing had happened.

"Read. What about you?"

"I didn't have an afternoon off, but I did do this." He gestured to the bullpen.

"It looks good."

"You think we should keep it like this?"

"No, I think the kids are too young to appreciate it," Grace said, smiling and filling their glasses up.

"Hmm. You do look nice," Boyd told her sincerely.

Grace's smile grew. "Thank you. So do you."

"I try." He sipped his wine. "I'm sorry for all the pretence, Grace. I know you didn't want to go to the ball at all and neither did I. Asking you to accompany me was just an excuse."

"Yes, I'd worked that out already."

"That is because you, Dr. Foley, are an intelligent woman."

"Stop it, Boyd, you'll make me blush."

"I think a blush would suit you. Make you look very endearing," he replied with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

"Are you flirting with me, Superintendent Boyd?" Grace asked, raising her eyebrows.

Boyd turned to face her, his position on the couch mirroring hers. "Would that be a bad thing, Grace?" he replied softly.

The profiler tilted her head to one side and the hand that was resting on the back of the couch reached behind Boyd, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. "No, I don't think so."

Boyd smiled. "Good."

They sat in silence for a while, looking at each other and drinking, until Boyd eventually disengaged himself and stood up. He walked over to a CD player Grace hadn't noticed before, and put a CD in.

"Grace, would you like to dance?" Boyd asked with a smile.

"I'd love to," Grace replied, walking over to him.

Boyd pressed play and said, "This is for you. It's the only way I can say what I want to." The profiler looked surprised as she recognised the song. "Not all of the lyrics are relevant to you, but I think most of them are," he explained.

"Boyd, I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," he replied, taking her in his arms. As they started to move, Boyd whispered the words of the song that were important to him, the ones that reminded him of Grace.

\So I was the one with all the glory  
While you were the one with all the strength  
Beautiful face without a name for so long  
Beautiful smile to hide the pain/

Grace laid her head on Boyd's chest, under his chin, and breathed deeply. He smelt of sandalwood and toothpaste, and something she couldn't put her finger on; it was his own unique scent, and coupled with the wine, it was making her feel very light-headed.

\Did you ever know that you're my hero?  
And everything I would like to be  
I can fly higher than an eagle  
You are the wind beneath my wings/

Boyd felt his voice catching as he whispered the words; even something like this was difficult for him. But Grace seemed to understand the message as she held him tighter and sighed contentedly. In truth, the profiler felt like her heart was going to burst.

\It might have appeared to go unnoticed  
But I've got it all here in my heart  
I want you to know I know the truth  
'Course I know it  
I would be nothing without you/

"Aww, that is so sweet," Stella whispered to Spencer. The two were hiding outside of the office watching. Spencer had left the ball briefly to check everything was going okay; he knew what Boyd was like and he didn't want his boss to ruin this chance, not after he had put so much effort into it.

"What is?" Spencer asked.

"The song. It's a beautiful song, and the message behind it is beautiful too."

"Which would be…?" Spencer said, truly innocently.

Stella rolled her eyes, grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the ball. "I'll explain, but not here. We have intruded on their moment long enough."

\Did I ever tell you you're my hero?  
You're everything, everything I wish I could be  
And I, I can fly higher than an eagle  
For you are the wind beneath my wings/

Grace pulled back slightly to look at the policeman. "Oh, Boyd," she whispered.

"I hope these are happy tears, Grace," he replied, brushing them away with his thumb.

"I don't know what to say."

"It seems to be my night for making you speechless." He smiled. "You don't have to say anything, you know."

"You're right." Grace moved forward and tilted her head up towards his. Boyd was not usually the most perceptive of men, but he understood the message that Grace was giving him. He bent his head and their lips met, producing a kiss that was gentle at first, but it grew into something more passionate, more real.

\Thank you, thank you,  
Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings/

"Thank you, Grace," Boyd whispered when they pulled apart.

She smiled at him and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. "If the Commissioner finds out why you missed the ball, he will kill you," she told him.

Boyd smiled. "Then I'll die a happy man."

FIN


End file.
